


Monster

by Itssilverbrich



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adoptive Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, But Definitely, But also, Canon Compliant, Except Carl, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt No Comfort, Morally Ambiguous Character, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Suicidal Thoughts, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), everyone on this server is morally grey no one is in the right, i love that horse, look it up its hella good man, maybe?? - Freeform, this is based off that song from the frozen musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itssilverbrich/pseuds/Itssilverbrich
Summary: It's the eve of a confrontation between a torn family, a torn nation, and three brothers are unsure of the best course of action.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I love this song and writing this while playing it almost made me cry. Or was that the emotional breakdown, lol

Techno’s home was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be warm.    
Ghostbur only felt cold.    
He shouldn’t feel cold, he left such painful and sad feelings behind, burying it with his precious Blue.    
And yet, here he stood, hands wrapped tightly around the material, the color dripping off it and staining his hands and the floor. It reminded him, in some shadowy way, of blood.    
Why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel so sad? Why wasn't his Blue working anymore?    
He couldn’t afford to be sad or scared, they were what made Alivebur bad and Ghostbur couldn’t be Alivebur, he refused, he was better, he was happier, people liked him better.    
  
He heard the sounds of Techno muttering to his chat, preparing for the oncoming army.    
He heard Tommy debating with himself.    
  
He should get them Blue.    
  


No, that never worked, Techno always kept it, claiming it’d help him reflect on his mistakes and Blue always made Tommy mad.    
  
Why was everything falling apart? Tommy should be happy, Techno should be happy, everyone should be happy!    
Ghostbur didn’t understand.    
  
…...that was a lie. Ghostbur did understand. Truly, he did but he didn't want to.    
He understood Dream did something to Tommy, he understood Techno had tried to be peaceful and that it hadn’t worked. He understood Phil was in danger, he understood Tubbo was scared and hurt and angry, he understood Quackity was desperate for respect. He understood Dream wanted control back.    
He understood so much but forced it down, down with every piece of Blue, to a place Ghostbur couldn’t reach, even if he tried.    
  
That place was overflowing, shoving truths and half memories into the ghost’s head; Tommy’s terrified eyes, Fundy’s outreached hand, Tubbo’s sharp cry, Techno’s nervous yet eager chuckles, Phil’s horrified but not disappointed or surprised expression.    
  
Alivebur, no,  _ Wilbur _ , had hurt so many people, on accident, on purpose, everyone on this server had been tainted by him and his greed.    
Techno had been right, of course, he was right, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Wilbur had rigged the election and then rigged the country with explosions.    
Maybe he would have improved if he hadn’t been voted out but he had been and Wilbur had lashed out at his right hand man, at his little brother.    
Phil had always told Wilbur to not let his fear consume him. To stand tall and proud with his friends and family in the face of danger. Phil told him if he let paranoia control him, Wilbur would die.    
  
Looking back, Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.    
Lord, Wilbur had always been a monster, hadn’t he? Even now he was hurting his family.    
Fundy was out there, hating his guts, Tommy was down there, warped by Wilbur and Dream’s influence, Techno was missing a twin and had been used as a weapon by said twin, Phil had been accidently ratted out by Wilbur, for crying out loud, was there any family member Wilbur didn’t hurt?   
  
Wilbur dropped the dripping Blue, resting his head against the chilling glass of the mirror he had desperately attempted to truly smile at.    
  
  
Techno checked, double checked, checked again, his supplies. Techno had been joking when he said he’d battle everyone on the server but Fate decided to grant his wish.   
The glistening boar skull waited patiently by the bedside table, the voices whirling around it and him in excited whispers, calling for action, for blood.   
Techno stopped and stared at it before turning away, catching his bare face in the reflection of a hanging sword.    
He stopped and stared, raising a hooved hand up to his pinkish face. When you could only see his face, he almost looked… human.    
He snorted, dropping his arm and turning away.    
Techno wasn’t human, not fully anyway. And even if every drop of blood in his veins was the same bloody red that those around him had, it wouldn’t make him any less of a monster.    
He had killed and lied and bloodied his hands in every manner and for what? For a moral code he sometimes had doubts about? For a life of loneliness and hatred?    
Was this all Technoblade was? A bloodlusting rampaging weapon, to be tossed from hand to hand until he bit it?    
He had hurt everyone around, driven everyone away because he was too stubborn to let himself be captured under someone else’s control.    
But in the end, Technoblade still found himself trapped, in a role, in a crown, in a position where he wielded a sword in hand and bared his tusks to the oncoming cold.    
  
  
Tubbo marched on through the snow, his cloven hooves leaving patterns in the white powder. The Butcher Army followed behind, surrounding their bargaining chip.    
Philza glared at Fundy, who kept his gaze forward. He flexed his wings a little, testing the bonds on them but just like every other time he had tried them, they remained folded and tied to his back.    
A diamond axe made its way to his throat and Philza yanked away, nearly tumbling to the ground.    
Quackity chuckled darkly at his surprise.    
“Quackity!” Tubbo barked back, uncharacteristically tense. “Don’t hurt Philza, we need him.”   
Ranboo helped Philza steady himself, the older man having difficulties due to his wings and arms being bound up. Ranboo offered a clearly nervous smile as he assisted him, his own axe noticeably hanging at his side instead of in his arms.    
Dream, like a phantom, hovered in the back, blank eyes and smile trained on the young horned president.    
  
Tommy hissed out curses, blinking away tears as he shoved things into a pack. He had no idea if he was preparing for battle or for running. He had no idea about anything.   
Tommy was so  _ done  _ with everything.    
He was at the center of this whole disaster though, he angered Dream, he angered Tubbo, everyone seemed to turn against him or get hurt when they were near him.    
There seemed to be no escape from everything.    
If he left, would anything even change? Would the conflict and the betrayal and pain follow him?    
Would Dream?

  
Was it because of him? Was it because of him all those horrible things followed?   
Everything was so cold and as Tommy tried to warm himself with Wilbur’s raggedy old coat, he found it possible that as long as he lived, it might always be so cold.    
Was this how Wilbur felt? In those final days, before the date was set, when so much of him seemed to war within himself?    
Tommy thought he understood then. He understood better now.    
  
_ Let’s be the bad guys, _ Wilbur whispered in his ear and Tommy smothered a hiccuping sob because Big Men don’t cry and if Tommy is going to lose literally everything else, he will keep his pride.    
He didn’t want to be the bad guy but he was tired of being the hero, of fighting the minotaur and getting cast out, again and again. He used to care so much and he still does!    
He’s just… he’s just so tired.    
Tommy never meant for things to go so far.    
  
It probably would have been better if he had lost all three of his lives in the war for L’Manberg’s independence.    
  
Ghostbur was scared, he was scared, and he didn’t like being scared because Alivebur was scared all the time, of everyone, and Ghostbur was not Alivebur, everyone hated Alivebur and he deserved it, Alivebur was a horrible, terrible, no good, scum of a man, and Ghostbur was just another example of that, so maybe Ghostbur should just let himself fade away into nothing, and leave everyone  _ alone _ .   
  
  
There were many people who wanted Technoblade dead. Technoblade couldn’t blame them. He, at the heart of it, was selfish. He could not apologize for what he was, simply because he  _ was not sorry _ .    
He was not sorry he won, he was not sorry he believed what he believed, he was not sorry for those things.    
He was sorry he let himself get distracted from his true goal, he was sorry he didn’t stop Wilbur and realize that it was madness driving him, not anarchy.    
Techno was sorry his actions might get his family killed.    
He was sorry he was such a monster that decent, decent, not good, people had taken him in and he was going to be the thing that finally ruins it all.    
Technoblade never dies.    
But what if he did? What if he surrendered? Would Tommy and Ghostbur be okay then? Would Philza?    
  
What would Philza do? Technoblade wished he was here, wished he could ask Phil what he should do.    
Phil always did his best for the three brothers, even if it wasn’t always the best.    
  
Tommy knew that, of course, he did, even if it was hard to believe, even if it didn’t seem like it. 

_What would happen if I vanished?_ He would ask Phil, if the man was there. _Would Ghostbur and Technoblade still fight Dream and Tubbo? Would Tubbo even care? Would anyone?_   
  
  
No. Ghostbur, Wilbur, couldn’t run anymore, no matter how scared he was, he had to do the one thing he never did in life and actually stand by his family when they needed him, not when he needed them.   
Maybe he doesn’t deserve forgiveness, maybe he'd never receive it, who cares! Ghostbur would not abandon his brothers to the consequences of his own actions, not again.   
  
Technoblade never dies. The voices cried it over his thoughts as he slipped on the skull mask and he let the wave wash over him.   
Surrender was never an option, _death_ was never an option. If Technoblade went down, it’d be in the same way he lived; laughing at his opponents as blood drained from every being on the battlefield.   
He was not a hero and he had no desire to be one. This did not make him a villain but he would save the world from it, if only by saving the ones he loved, the ones he knew had the potential and the drive to be better.   
  
Tommy had made his decision a long time ago. He hadn’t needed Philza for the answer then, and he didn’t need it now.   
He slung the pack on his back, summoning his enchanted sword to his side. A compass hung around his neck, steadily pointing to someone who approached quickly.   
Tommy was going to save his family, one way or another.   
He checked his compass once before climbing upstairs.  
 _All_ his family.   
  
  
If these boys, if Philza’s boys were monsters, the insane and corrupted president, the arrogant hero destined to fall, the anarchist who lived by and was the Blade, if they were monsters, then it would not be for much longer.   
Tonight, they would bare their fangs, tear into flesh, drink the blood of their foes and then disappear like snow in the summer sun.   
The three fallen sleepy boys would slumber on, for eternity, finally at rest.  
But that was an event for tomorrow but tonight, tonight!  
  
President Tubbo looked up and there Technoblade’s house was, silhouetted by the setting sun.   
There were three figures on there and they glared down at the intruders with the might of the minotaur, daring Thesus to try where so many had failed.   
  
Each held in their hand, a small, coal black skull. 


End file.
